


The Bloke from the Service

by Nehszriah



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Human Twelfth Doctor, I reused an OC from another story sorry not sorry, Mentioned River Song, Pinkwald present in form of OC baby, Prompt Fic, Slow-ish burn, a baby doing cute baby things, as slow a burn as you can get under 6k words, but only very briefly - Freeform, slight timeskip at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26656939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehszriah/pseuds/Nehszriah
Summary: Clara and her infant daughter Bonnie go through a lot of nannies. Good thing they've never had a nanny like Dan.[just an excuse to write a human!Twelve taking care of a baby]
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	The Bloke from the Service

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have gotten a couple hits recently on this story over on tumblr only to realize I've never posted it properly on here...? I'm not entirely sure as to why...? Did I forget...? Oh well--here's an over-three-and-a-half-years-late posting of this thing kinda inspired by Twelve holding a baby in The Return of Doctor Mysterio.
> 
> Why? Because we all need Twelve holding a baby in our lives.

The man glanced down at the address hastily written on the piece of scrap paper; this was the flat alright. Pocketing his sunglasses, he went and adjusted the guitar on his back and the bag on his shoulder—bills weren’t going to pay themselves. He knocked sharply, immediately met by the muffled sound of a baby screaming. The door opened and the screaming grew louder, and it wasn’t for the first time that morning, by the exhausted look on the woman now standing in the doorway.

“You from the service?” she asked, giving him a quick look-over. The short brunette was clearly not expecting someone so grey, let alone dressed in what easily could have qualified as pajamas.

“Yes…? I’m Dan from—”

“Good; I’ve been waiting on you.” She took him by the hand and pulled him inside the flat before he could continue, let alone pull out his credentials, which seemed to set the tone even further. It was a bit cluttered as far as things went, but it only seemed as though it was so due to the exhaustion that she wore on her entire body. “Bonnie’s on formula, along with a bit of mushed food and those baby biscuits, and you can find it all in the kitchen. Help yourself to the stuff in the kitchen, but be reasonable; my mobile and work numbers are on the fridge along with the spare key, texts only please unless it’s dire on levels of you’re taking her to A&E…” She grabbed the large tote bag stuff with papers and books and slung it over her shoulder before grabbing her purse. “Any questions?”

“Why are you in such a rush?”

“Classes start in half an hour and it’s a twenty-minute commute on a good day.”

“Sorry, but you’re a teacher?”

She paused, staring at him in slight surprise. “Yeah, why?”

“Where? I didn’t think there was a public school in the area.” His new employer scrunched her nose, realizing the real question he was attempting not to ask: _How can you afford a nanny on a teacher’s salary elsewise?_

“State school; my fiancé worked there as well and they’re eating the cost of you as a courtesy until they can justify the necessary pay raise and Bonnie is old enough for playgroup.”

“He _worked_? Past tense?”

“Let me just say that you wouldn’t be here if he could possibly be, and my fiancé would have done _anything_ to be with his daughter.”

“Ah, I see.”

“See you at five; Bonnie’s in her cot.”

“Miss Oswald, shouldn’t you introduce me?” he wondered.

“It’s alright,” she said on her way out the door, “She’s used to it.”

“Used to what?”

“Meeting new nannies.”

With that she was gone, leaving him with the baby who had not let up her screaming since he walked in. He put down his bag and guitar on the sitting room couch before wandering his way towards the nursery, eventually finding his new charge and her lungs of steel. Picking her up, he rested her on his side and bounced her, calming the baby within a few moments.

“Hello, Bonnie,” he said. “I’m Dan, and I’m going to be taking care of you while Mam’s at work.” The girl sniffled and he ghosted his fingers over her hair, thick and textured in a way he did not expect came from her mother’s side of things. “No, I’m not your da, but I can still care for you, yeah? It’s my duty after all.”

He had worked with enough children to know that the face she gave him was the closest thing to a deadpan she could give for being ten months old.

* * *

With the shopping, her marking, and the day’s worth of stress bogging her down, Clara decided it was going to be safer to take the lift that particular afternoon. She exited the lift and put the key in the lock of her flat—once she sent the new nanny home, it was definitely going to be time for a nap. When she couldn’t see the nanny (was it Dave? She couldn’t remember) she went towards the nursery, finding him bouncing a sleepy Bonnie in his arms. He was careful to not let the baby see her mother and undo all the work he did calming her down, yet did nod that he was going to come out as soon as possible.

Clara made some tea while she was waiting, already sitting with a cuppa when the nanny made his way into the kitchenette baby-free.

“I believe proper introductions are in-order,” he said with a smirk. Sitting down across from his new employer, he held his hand out over the table. “I’m Dan McGuiness—the agency sent me to replace your previous nanny.” Clara shook his hand and exhaled heavily; she was too tired, but parenthood didn’t care for the tired.

“Clara Oswald,” she said, taking back her hand. “I knew they were sending over a man, but I have to admit I was surprised to see you this morning.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the agency’s most reliable employees,” he huffed.

“Reliable, yes, but not exactly conventional; I used to be a nanny with the same agency, back when I was in uni, and I’ve seen some of the other people they employ, male and female.” She watched as he poured himself some tea and plopped in a handful of sugar, almost shuddering at the sight. “When did you start working there?”

“Don’t remember exactly, but I’ve been with them for ten or so years—was probably in the middle of a job while you were being placed—it makes decent enough money for just myself.”

“No one else?” she wondered, motioning towards his left hand where an ornate ring sat.

“Twenty-four years, and good ones at that, but it’s been a while since she passed. The ring’s a habit at this point.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about; River and I were happy, and no one should be sorry about having been happy,” he said.

“That’s true, although—not that I’m saying this about you—someone could justify some gross behavior based on the fact it makes them feel happy… or give the illusion of happiness.” He paused, considering, before continuing on. “Were you and your fiancé happy?”

“Yeah, we were,” she nodded. “Danny and I had big plans to have a family, travel in our old age, do all that sort of stuff. I guess our plans were too big for the tracks.”

“It happens to even the best of us—it just means that the universe has something else in store. That’s all.”

They finished their tea and he left, promising to return again in the morning.

* * *

“You do realize that Bonnie is too young for electric amps, right? That includes wearable ones.”

“Nonsense—only have it up to three,” Dan said, quelling the strangling of his guitar. Bonnie was sitting in front of him in the safety of her cot, clapping happily at the silly grey man in front of her, demanding he make more noise. Her mother was standing in the nursery doorway, not entirely convinced of the nanny’s argument after a day’s worth of combating argumentative tweens. “Besides, you introduce nips to music early enough and it’s like learning another language.”

“A neighbor was complaining about the noise on my way up,” Clara frowned. “Is this why you’ve been bouncing from family to family lately?”

“Who told you that?!” he asked in genuine shock. Clara instead collected her daughter from the cot and carried her into the sitting room, Dan close behind. “No, really, where’d you hear that?”

“They warned me that you weren’t exactly known for staying in one place for very long, but I decided to let them send you, since it’s not a live-in nanny I need,” she said.

“Well, then there’s that sass I was warned about,” he threw back. “I wondered why you said Bonnie was used to meeting new nannies and I asked around in the agency—you’re known as a egomaniacal control freak in some circles.”

“Control freak…?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then listen: when it comes to my daughter, _nothing_ is more important than my egomania,” she insisted. “Just because there are plenty of others ready to screw things up doesn’t mean that they should do so when it comes to Bonnie. I’d be the one at home with her if I could.”

“Considering you’re not the type to treat a child like a trophy, I believe it… but that doesn’t change the fact that when I inquired about you, there were plenty wishes of condolence for my luck of the draw.”

“Well then, you probably know how rare it is for a nanny to stay here as long as you have.”

“Three weeks shouldn’t be a record for holding down a job.”

“…yet it is when it comes to working in this flat.”

“Then let me take that as a challenge,” Dan smirked. He held his guitar and quickly strummed five notes. “What do you say?”

“ _‘Pretty Woman’_ …?”

“It was for Bonnie—she needs to grow up with confidence, after all.”

“You are genuinely one of the strangest men I’ve ever met.”

“She loves me, admit it,” he said before turning around to go into the kitchen and unhook himself from his amp. Clara stared at him, then glanced over at her daughter, slightly baffled.

Which one of them was he talking to?

* * *

Dan scowled at the mess that was in front of him, made none the better by the giggling baby sitting in the middle of it all. Bonnie was covered in wet, sticky toilet paper, having spun the entire roll’s worth off the cardboard tube and somehow gotten into the toilet. All he had done was left her alone in front of one of those kids’ shows on the television for five minutes while he whipped up something for them both for lunch and now everything would have to be cleaned up before lunch, _including_ the baby.

“No consideration for your elders, eh?” he frowned.

Bonnie remained unfazed by her caretaker’s ire and continued to play with the wet paper in her hands, marveling at how it molded to her fingers. She held it up, presenting her find to her nanny with a sense of curiosity that only those not yet talking could possess. Dan exhaled heavily and picked her up, relieving her of any toilet paper before placing her in the empty bathtub for safekeeping.

“Now you stay there,” he said. The baby pouted and smacked the side of the tub while Dan gathered the ruined toilet paper. After throwing it away, he returned for Bonnie, taking her with him as he grabbed a new nappy and change of clothes while on his way to the kitchen sink, where he already had a warm, bubbly bath waiting for her. She gasped at the sight—she never got baths in the middle of the day, _especially_ ones with _bubbles_. Shrieking in delight, Bonnie splashed about, making the bathing process both easier and difficult in one fell swoop.

Bath Time was nearly over when the door to the flat opened and Clara rushed in, leaning against the door after shutting it. Dan could see that her eyes were red and puffy, as though she’d done an incredible about of crying rather recently.

“Are you alright?” he wondered. She jumped at the sound of his voice, though immediately calmed herself down.

“Yeah, I… wait a second… I didn’t know we had bubble bath for Bonnie.”

“It’s just a couple drops of dish soap—gentle on hands, tough on germs out of the bog.”

Clara stared at him for a moment before shaking her head to drive away her stupor. “I don’t want to know. Listen, I have to go away last-minute. Can you stay with her?”

“Well, yeah, but what’s wrong?”

“Dad’s in a hospital up in Blackpool—heart attack—and he wants to see me. I know his wife wouldn’t’ve even _called_ me if it wasn’t for the fact he made her do so in front of him.”

“Then by all means, go,” he replied. His eyes flicked towards the sandwich and soup he had fixed for himself earlier and a thought popped into his head. “Wait, first off, did you eat yet?”

“I was gonna nab something on the train…”

“No, eat that,” he insisted, pointing at his lunch. Dan pulled Bonnie out of her bath, much to her protests, and wrapped her up in a towel. “It’s not much, but it’s better than anything they’ll serve on a train… plus the soup won’t slosh in your lap.”

“…but that’s yours…”

“Out of your pantry; just eat it.” He then took Bonnie into the sitting room to dry her off and put fresh clothes on. The open concept of the spaces made it so that Clara could see him making faces at the baby to make her laugh. Hearing the clear, heartwarming sound of her daughter’s giggle, Clara decided to sit down and eat the lunch offered to her.

He was right: it _was_ better than what she'd normally find on the train... not that she was going to admit it, of course.

* * *

Much to Clara’s surprise and relief, her father was doing well by the time she made it into Blackpool; still hooked up to monitors but having been cleared of any lasting murmurs earlier that very hour. She was less surprised to hear from the attending physician that her father was, in fact, showing classic signs of being a hypochondriac, which was precisely why earlier in the day he thought he was dying despite there being no aftereffects. His saving grace was that his health-related paranoia had been what caused him to go into A&E to begin with, making it so that his daughter was more than happy to deal with it for the while she would stay in her hometown, gritting her teeth at the presence on the woman who was _not_ her stepmother, thank you very much.

That night though, while curled up in the warmth and comfort of her old bed, Clara video-called Dan and asked to see Bonnie. He showed her the baby as she slept away, not a care in the world.

“Don’t worry—take care of your da. He’s counting on you.”

“Thanks; I shall.”

* * *

Bonnie babbled angrily when she saw her mother again. It had been five whole days and, even though there had been plenty of video calls, the baby was irritated at the fact she had been left alone all that time with _the Grey One_. It was not that she disliked the Grey One—she enjoyed spending days with him, actually—but she missed her mother to the point of it causing distress, which devolved into clinginess the moment she calmed down. She barely left her mother’s side until it was time for her to return to work, and when it was finally time to hand her off to the nanny, she sobbed uncontrollably, downgrading to sniffles once she had cried herself out.

“There, there; Dan’s here,” he said gently. “How about we get out and have some fun, yeah?”

She stared at him, unsure of anything.

“Come on—I caught sight of the park on the way over and I’m sure Mam’ll love it that you got a bit of fresh air. It’ll lift your spirits.”

Bonnie laid down in her playpen, knowing full-well that she had little choice in the matter. Dan packed her bag and put a jumper on his charge before heading out. Juggling baby and bag, he was able to make it over to the park, where there was a nicely shaded spot of lawn where he parked them under. He spread a tartan blanket on the grass and sat down on it. Bonnie rolled on the fabric, which only amused her caretaker. She eventually rolled her way over to his side, staring up at him with watery eyes and a wibbling lip.

“Muh?” she asked.

“Mam’s at work, teaching the pudding brains how to read, or whatever it is she’s paid to do over there,” he said. Bonnie crawled into his lap and plopped herself down.

“Dah?”

“Yeah, I’m Dan,” he replied, petting her fluffy dark hair. Her curls were soft and springy—surely her hair would be the sort that defied laws of gravity as she grew older. It made him a bit melancholy, so he kissed the top of her head gently.

“Dah?”

“No, don’t worry about me—I’m just a silly old man. Now, let’s see what toys we brought along today…”

* * *

Clara’s mobile buzzed from its spot on her desk, a familiar photo ID popping up to show who the text was from. Thanks to the exam the class was sitting, the buzzer was loud as it shook the phone, sending it traveling over the formica desktop. She picked it up and swiped through, mostly so that it would stop, but figuring she might as well read the message while she was at it.

‘ _bonnie just tried to eat a guitar pick. no emergency. thought you should know_.’

“Miss, how come we can’t use our mobiles during class, but you can?” asked one of her students, hand having shot up as well.

“…because sometimes it feels like there is a baby watching over my baby during the day,” she responded. “Do any of you have babies watching babies at home?”

“We’re twelve, Miss,” another student chimed in.

“Yeah—unless you count pets.”

“Pets don’t count.” Her mobile buzzed again; another message.

‘ _I rewired your kettle and it works much better now_ ’

“Didn’t you say that Bonnie’s nanny was an ancient old man? How is that a baby?”

“When your father starts going grey and questionably helpless, then you’ll understand.”

‘ _actually, scratch that. it worked a bit too well. when is your birthday bc I owe you a new one_ ’

Of course.

* * *

It was after a long, frustrating Parents Night when Clara quietly opened the lock to the flat and slipped into her dark home. She saw that the television was on, though Dan was nowhere in sight. After kicking off her shoes, she went to the nursery, where she found him and Bonnie fast asleep, a book open in his lap while the toddler was nestled into his chest. She carefully lifted Bonnie from his grasp and kissed her forehead before placing her in her cot. Clara then took a nearby blanket and draped it over Dan, pressing a kiss to his cheek as well.

There certainly had never been another nanny like him, that was for certain.

* * *

Despite the crick in his neck and sore back from sleeping upright, Dan was sitting at the kitchen table with Bonnie, trying to get her to eat her mushed bananas while Clara made breakfast for all those with use of their adult teeth.

“You should’ve woken me up,” he grumbled.

“…and risk you wanting to go home? Forget it,” she replied. Eggs and toast were soon on the table and all three of them were eating. “I feel better knowing you didn’t attempt a commute while half asleep, _twice_.”

Dan scowled as he put Bonnie’s bowl down on her highchair tray, giving the baby the spoon. She immediately began to play with it, more food going onto her clothes and in her hair than went in her mouth. He couldn’t help but smile through his eggs at her… the one who made it all worth it.

“Dan? Are you alright?”

He glanced over at Clara and, for some reason, his heart felt as though it skipped a beat. He hadn’t seen her in pajamas before that morning, let alone as anything less than everything put precisely how she wanted it (barring when she needed to head to Lancashire last-minute, of course). The sight of her sparked something low in his gut, making him feel rather unprofessional.

“Yeah, I…” He quickly looked around the kitchen, attempting to figure out what to distract her with. Seeing that Bonnie’s bananas were all gone, he plucked the baby from her high chair and held her securely in his arms. “I’ll go clean her up—you get ready for work.” He didn’t even wait for her to respond, immediately hiding in the guest bathroom while using his charge in order to avoid his employer.

His employer… Clara was his _boss_. Bonnie splashed in delight as Dan put a couple inches of water in the tub, completely ignoring his crisis. He was getting some banana out of her right ear when Clara poked her head in the bathroom.

“School just called—power failure took out a decent portion of Hackney, so I’m off the hook for the day.”

“Do you want me to leave so you can have the day with Bonnie?”

“No; I was wondering if you’d mind tagging along on some errands,” she suggested. “This way you can have a say in the groceries and things… I mean, you do spend a decent portion of your time here.”

Dan looked over at her and realized that she must have gotten the phone call while getting dressed, as she was standing just inside the bathroom door wearing only thick leggings and a halfway-buttoned blouse. He blushed, turning his attention back to Bonnie. “Not if you’re going out like that.”

“Of course not—these aren’t proper trousers, are they?” she scoffed before disappearing, presumably to her bedroom to put more clothes on. Dan leaned in towards Bonnie, needing to talk to someone.

“This is getting dangerous,” he admitted. The baby only grabbed the end of his nose and pulled in reply.

Why?

* * *

It was officially confusing for Bonnie Pink as she was placed in the shopping trolley and secured by the Grey One, even though Mummy was along as well. She had never been outside the flat with both adults before. This was new and exciting, making her brown eyes grow wide in anticipation.

Nothing really happened at first, just Grey One pushing her around in the trolley while Mummy went over the shopping list, until Mummy said that her coffee was working—whatever that meant—and ducked behind a door, leaving them to wait outside. An old lady who looked older than Grey One by _far_ came over in the meantime, only to fawn over Bonnie.

“Look at this sweet little girl,” the lady cooed, tickling Bonnie’s chin. “Your granddaughter is lovely.”

“She’s not my granddaughter… I’m…”

“Oh, my apologies; I’ve just seen you in the store with her before, is all, and now I can see she looks remarkably like her mother, though…” A light seemed to flick on in the woman’s mind, although it most definitely was not the correct one. “Ah, don’t need to say anything—I’ve got it figured out.”

“A tenner says you don’t.”

“Well, you just tell your wife that your daughter is lovely all the same,” the lady said before walking off. Mummy came out from behind the door less than a minute later, only to smirk at Grey One’s face.

“What’s with you?” she asked him.

“Prying old bats who don’t know when to shut up,” he replied. Mummy raised her eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. “Some woman old enough to be _my_ mam,” he leaned closer to her, “just assumed we were married and had to revert to science to have a kid.”

“…and you didn’t simply tell her you’re the nanny?”

“Tried, but she clearly has pudding for brains or else she wouldn’t have cut me off mid-sentence.”

“Could’ve been worse—could’ve assumed you were my dad.”

“That’s how she started out.”

Mummy growled something under her breath, pushing the trolley in order to blow off steam. She did not seem to calm down, however, even by the time they were back at the flat and putting the shopping away.

“The _nerve_ of her,” was what she kept on hissing as she slammed cupboards shut. “Going from thinking you’re my father to my _husband_?! How sick can she be?!”

“She did look to be about on Death’s door anyhow,” Grey One mentioned. He was changing Bonnie’s nappy in the sitting room, glad to be away from Mummy’s rampage.

“If she wants to assume we’re married, that’s fine, but you don’t go from assuming a man and a woman are father and daughter to husband and wife! She’s mental!”

“You don’t mind us being mistaken for married?”

“Considering you’re too beaky and tall to be my dad, yeah.” She wadded up the extra shopping bag from the store and put it in the recycling bin before taking her freshly-changed daughter from the couch, holding her up over her head before resting the baby on her hip. “Dan, did you want to stay for lunch?”

“I really shouldn’t,” he insisted.

“Oh, come on—you can think of it as friends instead of as employer and nanny if it helps any.”

“No, because, I… can’t think of it as that.”

“Can’t think of us as something friendlier?”

Grey One leaned down and kissed Mummy’s forehead, staying there for a moment before patting Bonnie’s head, muttering an apology, and leaving before Mummy could remember how to react.

That was _definitely_ not something Bonnie understood, let alone Mummy.

* * *

The power was still down in Hackney the following day, which meant that Clara laid in bed a bit longer than usual before fetching her daughter from the nursery. She put her in her highchair and was pouring dry cereal on the tray when her mobile rang.

“Oswald.”

“ _Miss Oswald? This is the Gallifrey Nanny Agency; it appears as though Dan resigned via voicemail overnight. Did anything bad happen between the two of you?_ ”

“No, nothing,” she replied, half in shock. “I thought we were going alright—a bit unconventional, but my daughter loves him.”

“ _Unfortunately we cannot send a replacement until lunchtime_ —”

“It’s alright, don’t bother; there’s no work today, possibly not Friday either. I’ll ring tomorrow; thank you.”

Clara ended the call and immediately went into her contacts, bringing up Dan’s number. When it went to voicemail twice, she resorted to texting.

‘ _a little birdy just told me you quit. why?_ ’

She ate her entire breakfast without hearing a response, so she sent another text…

‘ _running away isn’t going to solve anything_ ’

…and mid-morning, another:

‘ _we should talk_ ’

She was gearing up to send a fourth text right before lunch when the mobile rang—Dan’s number.

“Hello…?”

“ _Miss Oswald… Clara… hi_ …”

“Thank God; I half-expected it to be a police officer on the other end.”

“ _Okay, why?_ ”

“…because you haven’t been answering my texts, you berk. Why do you send the agency a voicemail saying that you quit and then not answer your messages the following morning? That _screams_ something bad happened.”

“ _I just don’t think I should be Bonnie’s nanny anymore… or any other kid’s nanny for that matter._ ”

“There’s where we disagree, because I don’t want her to get used to a new one.” She gave him a bit of time to reply, though couldn’t stand the silence on the other end. “Come here for lunch; if anything, it’ll put a smile on her face.”

Forty-five minutes later and Dan was there, holding Bonnie as the toddler shoved her hands in his cheeks, playing with his face as Clara fixed lunch. It was just sandwiches, crisps, and tea, but when she put Bonnie in her playpen and sat down across from her guest, she was serious as she could ever be.

“Alright: spill,” she demanded. “How long have you felt like this?”

“I’m not sure, though I was distinctly aware of it yesterday,” he muttered around his sandwich. “It was too much—I couldn’t do it.”

“Dan, we’re both adults,” she said. “I think that if there was something a bit more than a professional relationship, or even a friendship, that we could work it out. Up and abandoning everything is exactly the opposite of what we want to be doing here.”

“Then what do we do?”

“I dunno… try it…?”

“There’s a reason why people look down on ‘shagging the nanny’, Clara…”

“Except you’re not the nanny anymore and therefore free to shag whomever.” She then chuckled into her tea. “Is shagging an option?”

“Probably… eventually… during naps and DVDs at any rate, but only after we’ve been working at _this_ for a while.” He gestured vaguely to the whole of the kitchen as his ears went red in embarrassment. “It’s nice to say we can work things out, but our common ground is Bonnie and how long is that going to keep us together?”

“I have mentioned before that you _are_ one of the most interesting men I’ve ever met,” she replied.

“No; the word you used was _strangest_.”

“Close enough.”

* * *

Bonnie scaled the wall of her cot and dropped to the floor, recovering almost instantly as she bounced back up and out of the nursery. She went to Mummy’s room and climbed into the bed, wedging herself between her mother and the man who was sleeping soundly next to her, waking up both adults.

“Mummy! Daddy! Beckfass!”

“Bonnie, give us at least until the alarm goes off,” Clara groaned. She let go of Dan and jammed a pillow over her head, _very_ not feeling like getting up.

“Daddy make beckfass?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Dan yawned. Bonnie cheered and scurried off, which gave the adults a few moments of peace. “Should she be calling me that?”

“She’ll know the circumstances in time,” Clara murmured. “You will be eventually, so why stop her?”

“…because I’m just the old man who her mother keeps around for a good time,” he teased. His lips found the back of her neck, then her shoulder, leaving light, ghosting kisses along the way. “Should almost thank that woman at the agency for shoving the two of us together.”

“Daddy!” Bonnie scowled from the doorway. “Hungwy!”

“Then again, it’s also like I never quit,” he said.

“No, just upgraded,” Clara laughed.

She watched from underneath the pillow as her beau left the bed in his pants and t-shirt, following Bonnie towards the kitchen. When she was sure they were gone, she reached into her nightstand drawer to pull out a framed photo, one of her and a man now years-dead.

“Hey,” she whispered. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve got a thing for the name, I hope you know.” The photo, predictably, remained silent. “She’ll learn about you, when she can properly grasp what happened I promise, but just know that I found someone for her to look up to… for me to trust… that can physically hold her in the now. I hope you understand.”

She kissed the glass in the frame, replaced it in the drawer, and got out of bed ready for breakfast.


End file.
